


Just A Glass of Chocolate Milk

by marvel_middleearth



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Blindness, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Poisoning, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Temporary Amnesia, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-12-29 01:42:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18297737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvel_middleearth/pseuds/marvel_middleearth
Summary: It was just his spidey-senses playing up, Peter told himself.It was just a night out for dinner with Aunt May.It was just a glass of chocolate milk.But was it?Chocolate milk wouldn't make him feel like his head was splitting open. Chocolate milk wouldn't make him sick.Chocolate milk wouldn't make him blind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! 
> 
> I came up with the idea for this fanfic pretty recently, and unlike some of my other stories, I've been on a roll with this one and I've been able to get a lot of it not only planned out but written down. I'm pretty happy with how it's turned out so far. Hopefully you guys like it :)
> 
> Enjoy <3

“Holy -! Ned!” Peter waved his physics test excitedly in front of his best friend's face. “I got 98%, dude! How'd you go?!”

Ned looked just as thrilled. “I got 88%! That's way better than what I got last time!”

Peter and Ned’s elation was contagious and they were still grinning like idiots when the bell went and they walked into the canteen. MJ noticed them straight away. “What are you two dorks so happy about?” she asked, one eyebrow raised.

“We got our physics exams back,” Ned replied happily.

MJ still seemed slightly bemused at why this would make them so cheerful, but said nothing as the boys sat down with their lunch, comparing their answers. She feigned uninterest, but Peter could have sworn he saw a faint smile pass over her face as he proudly showed her his results.

Peter walked out of school that afternoon feeling like he was walking on a cloud. It had been a good day for him: his awesome exam results, his favourite classes, MJ! Had! Smiled! At him! and the fact that Flash hadn't bothered him majorly at all. He practically flew up the stairs to his apartment and tore into his apartment like a whirlwind.

May glanced up at his entrance, home earlier than usual after working an early shift. “What's got you so excited?” she asked, smiling fondly at his enthusiasm.

“I just had a good day,” Peter answered, before proudly - and somewhat shyly - handing her his physics exam, covered in scrawls and red ticks.

May only had to glance at the front page to burst into a smile. “I'm so proud of you, sweetie!”

“You know what?” she went on, slinging her handbag over her shoulder. “Let’s eat out. You deserve it for all your hard work and I really can't be bothered to slave away for hours at something half-decent. Ben was always the better cook.”

“You don't have to do that…” Peter protested.

“Are you passing up larb, Peter Parker?” May asked, looking mock-surprised. She bumped her shoulder against his teasingly. 

Peter laughed. “No. You got me.”

“I knew you'd come around,” May replied, walking towards the door.

“Larb you too!” Peter called, heading after her.

  
***  
  


The evening had started out fine. Really, it had been fine. They'd walked to their favourite Thai restaurant and sat down at their usual table. May had ordered food and drinks, Peter had told her about how his day had gone, and May had gone on about how frustrating her shift had been.

It had been fine.

But now there was a tingling at the back of Peter’s head and a chill racing up and down his arms. He couldn't concentrate on what May was saying; he kept glancing around, trying to find whatever was setting off his spidey-senses. May didn't even seem to notice he wasn't listening.

The waiter approached their table with their drinks on a tray. It was their usual waiter, the one who seemed to have the hots for May ( _ then again, _ Peter thought in bemusement,  _ who  _ didn't  _ seem to have the hots for his aunt? Even Tony thought she was attractive _ ). The hairs on Peter's arms stood up as the waiter approached and Peter frowned slightly. His spidey-sense was going off at the  _ waiter? _

“Here are your drinks, madam,” the waiter said pleasantly, placing the drinks down on the table with more flourish than Peter thought was strictly necessary. He didn't meet Peter's eyes once ( _ can't stop staring at Aunt May,  _ Peter thought, rolling his eyes internally).

“Thank you!” May replied sunnily, seemingly oblivious to the man’s interest and Peter's slightly-incredulous stares. The waiter smiled and walked off quickly to serve another table, and May raised the glass to her lips. Peter’s spidey-sense spiked.

“Wait!” Peter lunged forwards, almost knocking his own glass of chocolate milk off the table. “Don't drink that!”

“What?” May stared at him, puzzled and slightly concerned. “Why?”

Peter was aware that the people at the table next to them were staring. “I - I - uh...I don't know,” he stammered, flushing. “It's just...something doesn't feel right.”

“It’s just red wine,” May said, as though trying to console him.

“No, I…” Peter scanned the restaurant. The waiter was on the other side of the restaurant serving a family of four, the two young children squabbling over who had gotten more spring rolls. His spidey-senses had faded to a dull tingle but he still felt on edge. “I - sorry,” he said eventually. “Forget about it. Must have just been a fluke.”

May twisted her mouth in concern but didn't say anything. Their meals arrived and despite the delicious smells wafting off the food, Peter didn't feel hungry. As he stared out at the darkening streets, Peter couldn't help a small twinge of regret as he was reminded that taking the night off like this meant civilians in danger because of a lack of their friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. 

The rest of the night passed uneventfully.

And if his chocolate milk tasted slightly sweeter than usual, Peter didn't notice.

  
***  
  


By the end of the night, Peter was exhausted. He’d nearly face-planted into the table while May paid for the food and he could barely see straight as they left the restaurant, stifling a yawn with his hand. The moment they left the restaurant he stumbled and almost fell against May. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled.

May helped him steady himself. They’d only made it a few more metres down the road when Peter stumbled again. This time he leant heavily against May, feeling weak at the knees. She caught him and frowned. “Peter? Are you alright?”

“I dunno...I feel kinda weird,” Peter managed to say, surprised to find that his voice was slightly slurred. His eyelids felt heavy, but there was a strange excited feeling fluttering in his stomach.  _ Where are we again? Oh yeah, we went out to dinner. Thai. Did I do something good? I feel really happy. _

“You got good results in your exams, remember?” May said suddenly, making Peter flinch.

He raised his head to blink blurrily at her. “Huh?” 

May stared at him warily. “You asked me whether you’d done something good. Why we’d gone out to dinner.”

“I said that out loud?” Peter said, bewildered. He frowned at himself, feeling like he should be worried but at the same time feeling like he was about to start grinning at his very confused aunt.

May searched his face, looking worried. “You sound drunk. You  _ look  _ drunk. Oh my God - maybe someone spiked your chocolate milk?!" May sounded panicked. "Shoot. I swear I’m going to sue that restaurant if they did.”

“Maybe...I dunno.” Peter shook his head slightly, trying to clear it. “It...tasted pretty normal...I think. Like chocolate milk.” Feeling strangely euphoric, he giggled, then swayed slightly on his feet.

May put one arm around his shoulders. “You sound  _ very  _ drunk. Let’s get you home.” She helped him stagger to the car, then opened the passenger side door for him and helped him into the car. Peter flopped into the seat, leaning his head against the back of the seat.

May climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car. The short trip back to their apartment was punctuated by May muttering about how she would sue the restaurant if she had enough money, asking Peter how he was feeling and glancing worriedly at him every time she thought he wasn’t looking. Peter’s eyes slipped steadily closed, and by the time May drew up outside their apartment, he was almost asleep.

He felt May shake his shoulder gently and let out a whine of protest. “Peter? C’mon, we’re home now,” she said softly.

Peter forced his eyes open. “‘Mkay,” he muttered, pushing himself out of the car. He stumbled once and grabbed the top of the car door for support, only relinquishing his hold when he realised he was squeezing the door too tightly and the metal was bending slightly beneath his fingers.

With May’s help, he managed to stumble up the stairs and make it into his bedroom before collapsing on his bed. He half-heartedly tugged off his shoes and changed into his pyjamas, then fell straight into bed. When May came in to check on him five minutes later, he was sound asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, here comes chapter 2...

When Peter woke up, it was three in the morning, his head felt like it was splitting open, and his stomach told him he was about to throw up.

He made it to the bathroom just in time to empty last night’s dinner into the toilet. When he was done he sank shakily against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the cold tiles with his back against the wall and his feet drawn up to his chest.

He felt awful. His head was pounding agonisingly and his stomach was doing flips like he'd just got off a roller-coaster. He tried drawing in deep, measured breaths, but they were shaky and tinged with tears. He scrubbed a hand across his face and drew himself to his feet when he was sure he wasn't going to throw up again. His head spun dizzily, but he made it back to his room with little event, and practically collapsed onto his bed when he reached his room. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

 

***

 

May came in to check on him when he didn't emerge from his bedroom fifteen minutes after his alarm went off. Peter registered her hand feeling his forehead and her sympathetic expression. “No school for you today, buddy.”

Peter tried to prop himself up on one elbow. “No! Honestly, I'm fine, May,” he said weakly.

“You are  _ not  _ fine,” May said sternly. “Don't you dare move from that bed, Peter Parker. I'll call up work to let them know I can't…”

“No!” This time, Peter was adamant. “No, May. Please. I'll be fine here by myself. You don't need to do that.”

May frowned softly. “I don't like leaving you here alone sick.”

“I'm sure. I promise I'll call if I need you.” Peter rolled his eyes in a weak attempt to make her laugh. “I'm fifteen, May. I can look after myself.”

May kissed the top of his head. “Alright. But you have to call me as soon as you need anything, okay? If you feel any worse, tell me and I'll come straight home. Don't even  _ think _ about lying to me. You need me, you call, okay?”

“Okay.”

Half an hour later, the door clicked shut and May’s car pulled away down the street. Peter listened to it drive off from where he lay on his bed in his room, trying to get some sleep. But his headache and his senses seemed determined not to let him fall asleep; his ears picked up every noise from outside, making his eyes blink open every time a car screamed up the street or a truck honked on the main road.

He lay there for almost an hour, trying to zone out, but his headache only worsened. Eventually, nausea rising in him once again, he sat up; in response, his head spun and black spots clouded his already-blurred vision. He barely managed to drag himself into the bathroom to retch into the toilet, the acidic taste of bile burning his mouth. As he sank against the wall, turning his head to lean his cheek against the cool tiles, he felt tears pricking his eyes. Why him? Why this? Why did it have to hurt so much?

He shook his head to clear his vision, which was beginning to darken. It made his head throb and he squeezed his eyes shut with a whine of pain. When he opened them, his vision was so blurry he could barely make out the outline of the door.

He'd never been this sick before and frankly, it was beginning to scare him.

Peter shakily stood. Feeling his way with outstretched hands, he stumbled back to his room and collapsed onto his bed, his head spinning dizzily, barely able to see. With the last of his fading eyesight he managed to locate his phone on his bedside table. He grabbed for it with shaking hands but fumbled and dropped it onto the floor.

“Dammit!” Peter's voice was as shaky as his hands. His breathing picked up, fast and erratic. He reached one hand over the side of the side of his bed and groped around for his phone, but all he could feel was carpet. “Dammit, dammit, dammit! Where is it?!”

When his fingers finally closed around it, he gave a shuddering sigh of relief. His eyesight was all but gone and he relied purely on touch to use his fingerprint and unlock his phone. Never before had he been so grateful that Mr Stark had made him his own personal Starkphone, designed for him with Karen integrated into the systems. Shakily, he spoke aloud. “Karen?”

**_“Yes, Peter?”_ ** the A.I. responded.

Peter hesitated. May had made him promise to call her, but she was at work and it was a Friday - her boss always paid her extra for working overtime on Fridays. Peter knew they needed all the money they could get in order to pay the apartment rent, daily expenses and Peter's school and decathlon fees. He couldn't bring himself to disturb her, or to call Ned or MJ - they were at school. It looked as though he was going to have to ride out the pain until May finished work.

Unless…

No. That was weird. Who would call a billionaire to come and take care of them when they were sick?

Then again, Tony was more than just a billionaire to Peter now. He was his mentor, his friend, and secretly Peter saw him as a father. He suspected May knew that too.

“Karen, call Mr Stark,” he said finally. 

**_“Contacting Tony Stark.”_ **

Peter listened anxiously to the dial tone, praying he would pick up. He felt a dull sense of relief when Tony’s familiar voice answered. “This is Tony Stark.”

“Mr Stark!” Peter burst out, wincing at the volume of his own voice.

“Jesus, kid, you sound terrible. What happened?”

“‘M sick.”

“I can tell.”

“I…” Peter swallowed the bile that rose suddenly in his throat. “Something happened. Last night...spiked my drink…I threw up...please come and get me…”

“Someone spiked your drink?” Tony’s voice was worried. “Alcohol? You've got a hangover, is that it?”

“Don't think so. Mr Stark…” Peter's eyes blinked, but blackness still obscured his vision. He drew a deep and nervous breath. “I...can't see.”

“You what?” Tony asked sharply. “What do you mean, you can't see?!”

“Everything's dark. My eyes...I can't see anything.” Peter let out a whine of pain as his stomach lurched. “I really don't feel good, Mr Stark. Please come and get me...please.” He heard the childish pleading in his voice, but he didn't care. Whatever was happening to him wasn't normal, and Peter was freaking out.

“Okay, kid, hang in there. I'm coming to get you. Where are you?”

“At home.”

“Okay. I'll be there soon, kiddo. Hang in there.”

“‘Mkay,” Peter mumbled. He told Karen to end the call and let his arm slump back onto his bed.

He must have zoned out, because the next thing he knew, someone was shaking his shoulder. Tony's voice faded in slowly. “...kid? You with me, Underoos?”

“Huh?” Peter mumbled.

He heard Tony’s sigh of relief. “There we go. How you doing, buddy?”

“Really bad,” Peter moaned, moving one hand up to rest on his forehead.

“Now, just to clarify: you  _ can't see?! _ ”

Peter shook his head, tears welling in his eyes uncontrollably. “I can't see anything. Please say you can fix me, Mr Stark. I'm scared.”

Maybe if he was in his right mind, he wouldn't have admitted he was scared; but right now, he was sick, his head was throbbing relentlessly and he was literally blind. It was too much for him to handle right now, and he was too distressed to care when a tear rolled down his face.

Peter heard the alarm in Tony’s voice. “Hey, kiddo, you're gonna be fine. I'll call Bruce; he'll make you better, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter sniffed.

“But first we have to get you to the car. Reckon you can help me with that? Happy’s parked out front.”

“I-I'll try.”

Peter felt Tony’s hand close around his wrist, helping him to his feet. Peter had barely stood when his knees went weak and his legs folded beneath him, making him collapse to the floor. Tony only just managed to catch him. “Whoah, kid! You alright?”

“I don't...I don't think I can walk,” Peter said breathlessly. His legs felt like jelly, weak and floppy. The tumble to the floor hadn't helped to calm his churning stomach, either.

He could imagine the alarmed look on Tony's face. “Okay, okay. Uhh...looks like I'll have to carry you down, kid. C’mere.”

Peter felt Tony's hands sliding beneath his armpits and his knees, pulling him towards Tony. The billionaire then lifted him up and straightened up, cradling him bridal-style against his chest. Peter rested his head against Tony’s shoulder - at least, he thought it was Tony’s shoulder, he couldn't see a thing - and let his eyes fall closed.

He tracked the journey from his apartment down to the road purely by feeling alone: a gentle jolting as Tony walked, rougher when he descended the stairs. He heard the rumble of traffic as they emerged from the building, followed by a  _ clunk _ as Tony kicked the door to get Happy’s attention.

Peter heard Happy climb out of the driver’s side. “Why’d you kick my door?” he demanded. 

“It's not  _ your _ door. It's my car,” Tony pointed out. 

“I don't care, I drive it. Why’d you kick the friggin’ door?”

“I need you to open the door for me.”

“You could've just asked!”

“Just open the door, Happy, I need to put the kid in the back.”

Muttering to himself, Happy opened the back door of the car. Peter felt Tony lowering him onto the back seat, then climbing in next to him. “Okay, Hap, let's get this kid upstate…”

Peter was aware that Tony was talking, but suddenly he couldn't hear him. He was preoccupied with the strange feeling that was rushing over his body: it was like he was falling, as though the car had disappeared and he was plummeting towards the centre of the earth. It was like Toomes had dropped him into the lake all over again, and he was falling into oblivion.

His mind felt strangely numb and blank. He could distantly feel his fingers tingling, like they had pins and needles. It was strange to just lie here, unseeing, unhearing and unmoving, like he was trapped in a pocket of nothingness. 

He snapped back to reality suddenly. Someone was shaking his arm and talking, but he had no idea who. They sounded worried, Peter noticed distantly. Why were they worried? He was fine, wasn't he? Or maybe not - his head was pounding. He couldn't remember where he was. 

He blinked against the blackness.  _ Wait... blackness? _

He couldn't see.

Peter screamed.

Someone had their hand on his shoulder and Peter writhed, terrified. “Somebody...please...I can't see, I can't see,” he sobbed, tears sliding down his cheeks as he squirmed in a desperate attempt to get away. He was blind, he didn't know where he was - he could barely remember his own name.

“Peter! Listen to me, kiddo. You're okay,” the person soothed, his voice gentle but firm.

“I can't - I don't know…” Peter rambled, scrabbling at the hand on his shoulder. He clutched at it and it gripped his hand back, firm and reassuring. 

“Calm down, Underoos, just breathe,” the voice soothed, and suddenly Peter could put a name to the voice.  _ Mr Stark. It's Mr Stark.  _

Peter swiped at his tear-stained cheeks with his free hand, the other one still grasping Tony’s hand as though it was a lifeline. “I'm sorry,” he sobbed, his voice choked with tears of pain, of confusion, of fear.  _ I'msorryI’msorryI’msorry… _

“Hey, kiddo, shh. You're alright. You're alright,” Tony said reassuringly.

Peter could feel fatigue tugging at his eyelids, his breaths coming short and fast. “N-no, Mr Stark...I don't think I am,” he managed to stutter.

Then the darkness overtook him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you all for reading. Kudos and comments are always appreciated :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 3!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG guys, I.......don't even know how to begin. I posted this work two days ago, thinking, "Huh, why not? Let's see what people think." The reaction I've gotten from you guys has been AMAZING. Thank you so much to everyone who's left kudos and comments!!! I love you all, you guys are the best <3
> 
> So here's chapter 3! It's from Tony’s POV and it's pretty short, it's just a filler showing Tony's side of things up until Peter passes out. I'm working on finishing the entire story so then I can just upload it all chapter by chapter....if that makes any sense? :)
> 
> Enjoy!! Love you all!!

Tony hadn't known what to think when he picked up the phone. 

At first, Tony had been slightly bewildered. The kid was sick and wanted  _ Tony  _ to look after him? Probably a bad idea, since Tony didn't have a clue how he was supposed to look after a sick teenager.

Then he'd heard the pleading, desperate note in the kid's voice -  _ “...please come and get me…”  _ \- and it had touched a sympathetic chord in Tony’s heart. He'd promised to look out for the kid; now was the time to make good on that promise.

And then he'd said it. The thing that had made Tony’s heart skip a beat. The tear-choked, frightened words.

_ “I can't see.” _

Peter's words had been confirmed when Tony arrived at the Parker's apartment. It hadn't been hard to form a nanotech key to get in (Tony felt bad, but with May out and Peter sick and apparently blind, he didn't have a choice) making a mental note to install a better lock for them. He'd expected Peter to be sick, but he hadn't expected the kid to collapse in the middle of his bedroom, or for Tony to have to carry him in his arms down the stairs and out to the car.

Then - oh, boy - things had gotten interesting. And not the good kind of interesting, either. One minute Peter was lying across the back seats, making little whimpering noises that tore at Tony's heart, and the next he'd gone limp and was staring blank-eyed at the ceiling.

Tony’s eyes instantly raced to Peter's chest, fearing the worst. His pulse slowed a little when he saw it rising and falling, soft and irregular. He clicked his fingers in front of Peter’s face. “Kiddo? You awake?”

Peter didn't respond. Tony glanced at Happy, panicking. “Happy, drive faster! We need to get him back to the compound ASAP!” he barked. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., get Banner on the line!”

He turned back to Peter, shaking his shoulder gently but desperately. “C’mon, Underoos, talk to me. You're scaring me, kid. Please! Say something!”

Peter remained motionless, his brown eyes void of emotion.

Bruce’s voice suddenly filled the car. “Tony? Why…”

“Bruce, I need you to get the med bay ready, right now,” Tony interrupted. “Peter…”

“Who?”

“Peter Parker. The kid,” Tony snapped. “He's sick, like,  _ really  _ sick, Bruce. He kept throwing up - and he can't see, Bruce, he can't see anything. And now he's totally zoned out, I can't get a response, he's not moving…”

“Is he breathing?!” Bruce’s tone was sharp and urgent. 

“Yeah, for now,” Tony said worriedly. “But he won't answer me, he won't move, it's like he's paralysed…”

“Keep watching him, make sure he keeps breathing,” Bruce instructed. “Keep track of how long he's unresponsive for. I'll meet you outside the compound. Go as quickly as you can.”

The line went dead and Tony returned his full attention to Peter. “Kid? You back with us yet?” He put a hand on Peter's shoulder, willing him to wake up. “C’mon kid, please.”

Peter blinked. His eyes were still empty, but  _ he blinked  _ and Tony was ecstatic. “Kid? Can you hear me? You okay?” Tony persisted.

Peter screamed.

Tony flinched in shock. Happy jerked and swore, glancing in the rear-view mirror with wide eyes. “Peter, breathe, kid, breathe,” Tony tried to reassure him.

Peter writhed under Tony’s hand, planted firmly on his shoulder. His eyes roamed around unseeingly, tears streaming down his face. “Somebody...please...I can't see, I can't see.”

“Peter! Listen to me, kiddo. You're gonna be okay,” Tony said firmly, surprisingly himself with the gentleness of his tone.

“I can't - I don't know…” Peter scrabbled at Tony’s hand, his face so stricken with fear it scared Tony. Tony let go of Peter’s shoulder to grab his hand, flinching in surprise when the kid clutched at it desperately, his breaths coming in pitiful little pants and whines. Tony rubbed his thumb over Peter's hand the way his mother had used to do to him, trying to calm the kid as much as possible.

“Calm down, Underoos, just breathe,” Tony instructed, hoping the kid's anxiety wasn't going to escalate into a full-blown panic attack.

The teen rubbed his hand across his cheeks, sniffling. His other hand was clutching Tony so tightly he was surprised his fingers weren't broken. “I'm sorry,” Peter sobbed, and Tony was reminded horribly of Titan, of the kid turning to ashes in his arms. He swallowed the panic that reared up inside him like a poisonous snake, trying to slow his suddenly-racing heart. He wouldn't freak out now, not while Peter needed him more. He could freak out later. 

“Hey, kiddo, shh. You're alright. You're alright,” Tony repeated reassuringly, as much for himself as for the kid. 

Peter’s face was terrifyingly pale. “N-no, Mr Stark. I don't think I am.”

Then he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and thank you to everyone who has left kudos or comments for me. It really makes my day :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay I finally posted chapter 4! I didn't like it at first but the end has turned out a lot better than I thought it would (the end of this chapter that is - we haven't quite reached the end of this fic yet).
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are. The. Best. I know I said this last time but seriously, you guys are awesome. The feedback and encouragement you guys give me in the form of kudos and comments makes me so, so happy. Thank you so much!!!!!!!!! <3
> 
> Just a note about this story: it takes place post-Infinity War and with the happy assumption that Thanos gets his butt handed to him, everyone who was dusted comes back to life and all the heroes survive and live happily ever after (a bold and probably inaccurate assumption, I know, but I can dream, right?). 
> 
> Who else is not (and probably never going to be) ready for Avengers: Endgame??
> 
> Don't forget to check out my other works if you like this one/have time.
> 
> Once again, thank you all, and enjoy chapter 4.

Tony often felt mixed feelings when it came to the Avengers compound in upstate New York.

When it had first been built, Tony had felt sceptical - he'd raced around the whole building checking every last detail and adding his own upgrades where the current items did not suffice. After he and Cap had fell out, it had felt huge, and empty - a reminder of his failure to keep the team together, to save Rhodey, to make the decisions he felt he should have made. Recently it had become to feel like home, after the team had defeated Thanos and most had moved back in, a fragile friendship suspended between them all.

Now, it felt like his saviour.

Tony swung the door open before Happy even stopped the car, yelling Bruce’s name. The doctor was at the door of the compound with a full medical team beside him, bearing stretchers and bags full of multitudes of medical equipment. He rushed over as soon as Happy pulled up. 

Bruce didn't even pause to acknowledge Tony. He directed the medic team to lift the unconscious Peter carefully from the car, lowering him onto the stretcher. “Move him carefully! We don't know the extent of his condition,” Bruce ordered. 

Tony was forced to hurry after the stretcher, trying to keep up with Bruce. “What's wrong with him? Do you know…”

“I'm working on it, Tony,” Bruce responded, his voice mostly calm besides the faint hint of stress at Tony's probing. “It'll be easier to confirm once we get back to the med bay and I can run some tests.”

They rushed into the medical wing of the compound and Bruce got straight to work. Tony hovered around him anxiously as Bruce barked out orders, injecting IV fluids into Peter's arm and monitoring the teen’s heart rate, his face anxious as he watched the heart monitor leap up and down.

Tony laid one hand on Peter's limp hand, as though he could reassure the unconscious kid. He was trying to hide the fact that he was having a minor freak out, but it didn't get past Bruce, who pulled him aside and firmly told him to go and sit down, or at least leave the room so Bruce wasn't tripping over him every time he turned around.

Tony reluctantly complied. Yet it seemed his nerves only got worse as he was forced to watch Bruce work on Peter from the other side of a glass window.

The moment Bruce emerged from the medical room, stripping off his gloves, Tony sprang at him. “What's wrong with him? Gimme something here, Banner, please,” he begged.

“Well, you were right about him being really sick,” Bruce began, one hand rubbing the back of his head. “He was poisoned.”

Tony’s heart skipped so many beats he was almost convinced it had stopped functioning and it was going to be him on the table next. “W-what? Poisoned?!”

“Ethylene glycol,” Bruce confirmed gravely. “It's used as an antifreeze, mostly, but it is used for intentional poisoning too. Symptoms include inebriation, vomiting, loss of eyesight, metabolic acidosis, seizures - when he blanked out on you in the car he was probably having a seizure. I've injected him with fomepizole to try and reverse the effects, but…” He hesitated. “Tony, you have to understand, he's at a critical point right now. I don't know how his enhanced metabolism will process the fomepizole. It could go straight through with no effect. And if it does...he's at stage two now, Tony. Stage two ethylene glycol poisoning can be fatal.”

If Tony's heart had felt like it was about to fail thirty seconds ago, he was 99% sure it was going to fail now. “Fatal?” he repeated, disbelievingly. “You're telling me my kid could die?! Today?! From  _ poisoning _ ?!” He swore, unwilling to believe it. “No way. I'm not...he can't…whoever the hell poisoned my kid…”

“Tony.” Bruce’s voice was still firm. “Tony, look at me. There's still a chance, okay? I just wanted to tell you in case...in case he gets worse. I thought you might have wanted to tell his aunt.”

_ May. Dammit.  _ Tony let out a long breath, trying to ignore how shaky and scared it was. “Yeah. Yeah, I'll tell her.”

Bruce nodded, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder for a moment before returning to Peter to get him settled into a room. Tony turned away, running his hand through his hair like he always did when he was stressed, when there was too much on his mind to properly comprehend, when he felt full to bursting with anger and grief and  _ why me?! _ When he'd finally managed to calm his breathing to an almost-normal rate (that was a lie - his heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest in panic) he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled May's number.

“May Parker. Who is this?” the woman answered a few seconds later.

“Ms Parker...it's Tony. Tony Stark.” Tony knew his voice was heavy, but he couldn't bring himself to lighten it. Not with what he was about to tell her.

“Oh! Hi, Tony.” May sounded slightly flustered. Like her nephew, she'd still never really gotten over the fact that she knew  _ the Tony Stark  _ in person. “Why are you calling? Is something up?”

“Uh, yeah. It's about Peter.”

May sounded bewildered when she spoke. “Peter? He's at home sick right now, I can…”

“That's the thing, May. He's not at home right now. He's in the medical bay at the Avengers compound.”

“I'm sorry?!”

“He's...been poisoned.” The words tasted foul in Tony’s mouth.

“He's been  _ what?!”  _ A venom Tony had never heard from the woman was suddenly in her voice. “What the hell have you dragged him into this time…”

“I swear, I didn't drag him into anything,” Tony protested. “The kid called me. I picked him up - he was in really bad shape, so I brought him here. He had a seizure and then passed out on the way over. Bruce…”

“Who?”

“The doctor. He said it's ethylene glycol poisoning.”

“Is it bad?!” May sounded frantic. Tony could hear her hurried footsteps in the background, then the sound of a car starting up. 

“May...in his current condition...there's a chance he might not make it.”

Tony heard a choked sob from the other end of the line. “No! Oh, God, please no. Not him. Not Peter.  Please…”

“I'm sorry…” Tony began, knowing it was pointless. He could put as much emotion into those two words as he wanted and they'd still mean nothing to her.

_ I'm sorry  _ wouldn't make her feel better.

_ I'm sorry  _ wouldn't save Peter.

They were just empty words, and Tony knew that better than most people. How many times had people said that to him after his parents had died? Avoiding his gaze, blurting out the words like they would suddenly fix everything. Sometimes,  _ I'm sorry  _ just wouldn't cut it.

But there was nothing else for Tony to say.

“I'm coming, I swear, I'm coming,” May gasped, her words clipped and panicked. “Just look after him - don't lose him, please, Tony, please - I'm coming…”

“I'll tell F.R.I.D.A.Y. to let you let you in and direct you down,” Tony found himself saying numbly. “I'll take care of him, May, I promise I'll do everything I can.”

He hung up, the full reality of the situation sinking onto him. This could be  _ it.  _ The end. Goodbye, Peter Parker. Goodbye, Spider-Man. Goodbye to Queens’ friendly neighborhood hero.

Goodbye to one of the only people who had managed to work their way into Tony’s heart, who had made his life whole.

Tony yelled and kicked the wall in frustration.  _ Why me?!  _ He screamed in his mind.  _ Why him?! Why why why whywhywhywhywhywhy… _

“Tony?”

Tony spun around. “Pep,” he said, his tone blank.

The strawberry-blonde woman strode down the hall to him, pulling him into a hug without asking anything. She could see the grief in his expression, the need for physical comfort, and she didn't question it. Tony found himself biting his lip as he buried his face in her shoulder, so hard his mouth filled with the tang of blood.

“What's going on, Tony?” she whispered over his shoulder, her eyes fixed on the rush of doctors in the medical room.

It was a few seconds before Tony answered. “It's the kid. Peter. He's been poisoned.” He swallowed, hard. “Bruce says he doesn't know if he'll make it.”

Pepper went momentarily still. Tony could feel her heart fluttering where their chests were pressed together. “That's awful,” she murmured at last. She drew away, lacing the fingers of her left hand with Tony’s right. “Is there anything…?”

“I don't know,” Tony replied, trying to keep his voice steady. He knew Pepper would pick up on his grief anyway - she already had. She didn't need to hear a shake in his voice. She could read Tony like a book.

Together they turned, fingers laced together, clutching each other's hands like a lifeline. And there was nothing they could do but stare at the pale boy on the hospital stretcher, and pray.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we've reached the last chapter!
> 
> I want to say a HUGE thank you to all of you because you guys are ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE!!! Thank you for all the comments, the kudos, the critique and the support - you guys deserve the biggest round of applause possible. 
> 
> You've all been so amazing but in particular I want to say thank you to JngCarlo and Belladonna229, who picked up on points on my story I needed to work on and really helped improve it. Thanks!!
> 
> So, thank you for sticking this one out - here's the final chapter you've been waiting for (sorry it took a while). Enjoy, and once again THANK YOU!!!!! I love you all <3

May arrived half an hour later; she had had to battle the traffic all the way from her current workplace in Brooklyn to the compound upstate. She burst through the door to Peter's room, a whirlwind of worry, stopping short as she spotted her nephew.

Peter was small and pale in the white-sheeted hospital bed, drowning beneath tubes and needles which pumped a constant flow of liquids into his body. Tony thought he'd never seen him so vulnerable and lifeless. The bright, energetic kid he usually was, was reduced to an empty shell.

May sank down into a chair opposite Tony and Pepper, her eyes never leaving her nephew. There was a long, long silence, broken only by the repetitive beep of machines and Peter's almost-imperceptible breaths. Tony sat back in his seat, resting his head back against the cold hospital walls, closing his eyes and begging, begging, begging, that if there was any higher being out there, they would look out for Peter. Make him better. Protect him in the way Tony hadn't been able to.

"I want to know who did this to him," May said eventually, in low, furious tones. "Who in their right mind would poison a child? A child, for God's sake! He's fifteen!"

Tony felt uncomfortable. "It's my fault, May," he admitted.

May looked at him sharply. "Care to explain?" she asked icily.

"We found the group who did it," Tony explained. "They were all former employees of Adrian Toomes - Peter took him down late last year. They bribed a worker to poison Peter's drink."

"And just how is it your fault?" May asked, tight-lipped.

"I dragged him into this world," Tony said. "I should have protected him."

"You can't expect to be able to protect him every second of every day," May said, her voice quieter. "Every parent does. No parent can. Sometimes we just can't control everything."

"But we should," Tony argued. "If it's the times when I can't protect him that he's going to get hurt, what's the point?"

"What's the point?" May echoed. "The point is, Tony, that we love him. We're never going to stop loving him. And because we love him we're always going to try to protect him. That's the point."

Tony still looked unconvinced, but Pepper nudged him gently. “She's right, you know,” Pepper said softly. “And it's times like these when Peter's going to need the people who love him, more than ever.”

Peter stirred and Tony’s attention turned instantly to him. "Kid?" he said softly.

Peter’s brow wrinkled in concentration as his eyes slowly fluttered open. "Mr Stark?" he mumbled.

Tony gave him a half-smile. "Hey, Underoos. Welcome back to the land of the living."

Peter blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision. He gave his aunt an exhausted smile. "Hi, May."

May stroked a chocolate-coloured curl away from his forehead. "Hey, sweetie," she smiled gently.

Peter closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. Only moments later he was asleep again, his chest rising and falling slowly but evenly; nothing like the sharp, irregular pants he'd been taking when Tony had picked him up earlier.

Bruce came in to check on him only minutes later, his worried expression slowly but surely turning to relief as he monitored Peter's vitals. “The metabolic acidosis is reversing; his metabolism should be back to normal in a few hours. His heart rate and breathing rate have stabilised too. With the speed of his enhanced healing, he should be back to normal - well, as normal as he gets - in a day or two. I'll keep him in a little longer just to make sure there are no residual effects, but he probably won't be here a week.”

“So he's going to be okay?!” May's face had lit up with hope.

“Yes,” Bruce confirmed. “His healing factor is absolutely incredible. I'm amazed, honestly.”

_He's going to be okay._

And Tony, looking at Peter, asleep peacefully with his cheek pressed against his aunt's hand like a puppy seeking a pat, thought he'd never heard better news.

***

Peter woke up fully the next day, colour already returning to his face along with his cheerfulness. He facetimed Ned at the first chance he got and the two chatted for an hour, talking about school and Lego sets and how Peter was doing. Tony raised an eyebrow as Peter related exactly how he had been poisoned - _of course the kid drinks chocolate milk_ \- but didn't question him further. He still seemed a little shell-shocked from the experience, and while colour had returned his cheeks, he was still pale, and there was a faint look of fear in his eyes whenever someone mentioned just how close to death he had come.

That look of fear haunted Tony, too. Because he knew that look better than most people. He'd seen it in his own eyes, every time he'd looked in the mirror after flying that nuke through the wormhole, all the way back in 2012. And he hated that of all places to see that fear again, it had to be in a child's eyes.

That fear had been bright in Peter's eyes when he had first woken up fully. He'd sat bolt upright in bed, his eyes wide. “May!” he gasped. “Oh my gosh, are you okay, are you alright, did you…”

“I'm fine, sweetie,” May replied, startled.

“But you...your drink...the poison…” Peter stammered, looking bewildered.

“It was only in your drink, Peter,” May said softly. “I'm fine.”

“But...my spidey-senses went off at your drink too,” Peter frowned.

“It could have just been an inaccuracy,” Tony suggested, leaning forwards in his chair thoughtfully. “Didn't you say your ‘spidey-sense’ isn't 100% accurate every time?”

Peter considered Tony’s words. “You're probably right, Mr Stark.” He turned relief-filled eyes on May. “I'm so glad you're okay, May.” He surreptitiously wiped at his eyes, trying to hide the tears that had formed there.

“Oh, Peter.” May embraced him. “I'm so glad you're okay, too.”

Peter was confined to his bed for two days - doctor's orders - but there was a steady flow of people popping in and out of his room to visit him: May, Pepper, Bruce, his friend from school - Ned? Ted? - and the moody dark-haired girl called Michelle, who pretended she wasn't at all impressed by Peter and Ned’s jokes but whose eyes glittered with warmth beneath her curly fringe when she thought no one was looking.

Tony checked in on the kid whenever he had time, but spent most of his day down in the lab. When Peter peppered him with questions about what he'd been doing, Tony just smiled mysteriously. “You'll see.”

Peter was up and about again within days, buzzing with his usual cheerful energy. He spent his last day at the compound following Pepper around like a lost dog, exploring the compound and catching up on homework. He came bounding down the stairs to the lab at 2:30pm. “Mr Stark?” he called, poking his head around the doorframe. “I'm going home now.”

“Okay. C’mere, kid, I've got something for you.” Tony beckoned him over to where he was working and handed him a slim silver band, about the size of Peter’s wrist.

Peter turned it over in his hands curiously. “What is it?”

“Oh, just a little device I whipped up,” Tony said casually. “It'll measure your heart rate and blood pressure as well as reading the contents of your blood. If there are any abnormalities it sends an alert straight to my phone. I hope you _never_ manage to get yourself poisoned again, but if you do, this little device will hopefully help avoid it getting too serious.”

Peter looked awed. “That's...thank you so much, Mr Stark!”

“Don't worry about it,” Tony said dismissively. “I also installed it in Karen just in case something happens out on the job.” He smirked. “If anything like this happens again, just tell Karen to activate the Chocolate Milk Protocol.”

Peter reddened. “Ha, ha, very funny, Mr Stark.” He rolled his eyes, trying to keep the grin off his face as he slipped the band onto his wrist.

Tony ruffled Peter's curls. “Okay, buddy, off you go. Don't get into any more trouble until at least next week, I'm too busy to come and save your butt every second day. Besides, I don't think my hair can take much more of this; it's going to be grey within a month if you keep this up.”

Peter laughed, his expression bright again. “I'll try my best. Seeya, Mr Stark!” He waved, then jogged back upstairs.

Tony stared after him fondly, suddenly remembering just how grateful he was that they'd been able to reverse the effects of the snap.

Hell, he loved that kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading <3


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